Kill of the Night
by wordslinger
Summary: They'd been meeting in the same corner since college – since they'd needed fake identification to be served. Together they lurked in the shadows and picked apart the crowd. Him because he was frustrated and her because she was bored. Graytear. Background Jerza. Complete.


_**Note: I encourage you to check out Gin Wigmore's "Kill of the Night" on YouTube.**_

* * *

" _The street's a liar_

 _I'm gonna lure you into the dark"_

* * *

The bar was probably older than the both of them put together. She knew there was a positively _ancient_ speakeasy below it and upper floors completely sealed off from the public – not that she cared about _seeing_ any of it. Their existence alone intrigued her. Ultear loved secrets and hidden pockets. Nooks and crannies and dark corners were what made the world interesting.

They'd been meeting in the same corner since college – since they'd needed fake identification to be served. Together they lurked in the shadows and picked apart the crowd. _Him_ because he was frustrated and _her_ because she was bored. This particular bar was their favorite. The atmosphere was nice. The drinks fantastic. But the _real_ pleasure was in the watching.

Like herself, Ultear knew Jellal had his own game. They were of opposite tastes. Jellal desperately wanted to be destroyed – and had a very particular poison. Ultear wanted to do the destroying. There was something immensely satisfying in the process of twisting a pretty face into something unrecognizable. Something pathetic. Something _base._ She liked to be begged and she liked to deny.

"I'm shipping out in a week," Jellal muttered around the rim of his glass. Ultear glanced over at him and watched him swallow all of his scotch in one go. He hated scotch.

"Is that why you're so morose?" Her eye snagged on a flash of crimson hair and her lips twisted knowingly. "Trying to make up for time before it's lost?"

"I'm sick of this shit."

"And yet," Ultear said smoothly. "Here you are."

"I'm getting out."

"No you're not." She sipped her Maker's Mark and swirled the remains in her glass. "You're going to do exactly what your father tells you to do until one day you'll wake up and realize you've become him." Ultear could feel his glare. It pleased her to know she could still poke at his weak spots and annoy him. She also enjoyed the freedom to be more glib with Jellal than anyone else under her microscope.

"I will not."

"You're thirty three. I can see the umbilical cord just as clearly now as I could when we were ninteen."

"Erza said –"

"Oh, honey," Ultear interrupted with a patronizing lilt. She turned to him and smoothed the fabric of t-shirt sleeves that stretched over his biceps. "You wouldn't know what to do with yourself if you didn't have _someone_ holding your leash. For the record, I think Erza's handprints around your neck look better than your father's."

"You're a bitch."

Ultear shrugged and turned back to the room. "I'm _right."_

"I mean it this time. When my contract is up, I'm through."

"You don't but I'll humor you. What will you do with your life when you're not clad in a uniform glittering with medals and whatever else?"

"I haven't thought that far ahead."

Her laugh was a low, scathing thing. "Of course you haven't, Jellal. You've been a soldier boy for as long as I've known you. And honestly it suits you."

"I hate it."

"You don't, really. You just hate that you need it so much." Her gaze caught on the violently scarlet head of hair once more.

Erza wove through the crowd expertly avoiding the touch and gaze of men she _knew_ watched. Her dress was short – the rich color of a deep bruise. And her heels, stilettos. Everything about her was pristine. Erza had a way of commanding a room without even trying very hard. It had never been any wonder how her closest friend had fallen so disgustingly in love. Ultear had seen the scratches on Jellal's back, thighs, and chest though. Erza's beauty was akin to the petals of a rose whose stem was crowded with thorns.

Ultear respected Erza's thorns but love was a thing she wanted nothing to do with. It suited Jellal perfectly to be bossed and clawed by a woman like Erza. He needed to drown out the commands of his father. He required it. The more analytical part of Ultear's mind, the part that made her so damn good at her job, wondered what Erza got out of the relationship other than a deliciously beautiful man with a solid body who'd slit his wrists for her if she asked – but Erza would never ask. Did she take any pleasure in knowing he _would?_

She polished off her drink and scanned the crowd for something interesting. Something… _there._ The man stood out painfully. He glanced around as if he'd never been in anything other than a restaurant bar for his drinks – and Ultear knew he hadn't. She knew _all_ the ins and outs of his repressions, and personal tragedies and traumas. She knew why he couldn't pull the trigger with his girlfriend of five years and she knew why he'd carried on a scandalous affair with his T.A. for the last six months. She knew why he was alone, too. Ultear's smile turned sharp.

"He's too soft for you," Jellal murmured. "You'd gut him like a fish and be hungry again in an hour."

"He'd love it," Ultear whispered, forgetting all about thorns and skin-deep scratches and uniforms.

"Is it really a challenge if the fish are in a barrel?"

"Maybe not for me but he likes to suffer."

"How do you know that?"

Ultear leaned forward over their table and watched the man stuff his hands into the pockets of his dark wash jeans. His short-sleeved button up shirt was untucked and the crisp fabric bunched at his wrists where they disappeared into his pockets. He had too much product in his hair and looked almost pale under the low lighting but Ultear liked the sadness of it all.

"He's a patient."

"What?"

"He's been coming to me for months."

"You can't –"

"I'm bored." Ultear straightened and smoothed her dress. She brought all of her hair over one shoulder and leaned into Jellal. "Let me know when your send-off party is. I'm out."

"You're unethical is what you are."

"Are you going to rat me out to the licensing board, Captain Fernandes?" Ultear asked sweetly.

Jellal snorted. "I don't give a fuck, Ultear. I'm just concerned that it'll be awkward for a patient to dissect his sexual repression with the woman who left him cuffed to his own bed."

"I would never leave behind a good pair of cuffs, Jellal." Ultear swept around the table and watched the man in her crosshairs stare at Erza the way _all_ men stared at Erza. He truly was a pitifully predictable specimen.

* * *

" _The danger is I'm dangerous_

 _and I might just tear you apart"_

* * *

When the man finally turned away from the siren call of the untouchable woman at the bar, his eyes met hers and he froze. Like a deer in a pair of headlights he _froze._ Ultear's lips twitched up into a smirk.

"Good evening, Mister Fullbuster," she purred.

"Doctor Milkovich," he whispered, his face paling. "I didn't – I didn't think –"

"Have I made you uncomfortable?" She glided into his personal space but didn't touch him at all. He smelled strongly of cologne and Ultear wondered if he sprayed his body or his clothes. He'd always struck her as a messy sort of man who probably clad himself in his insecurities from the moment he stepped from the shower every morning.

"No," he blurted. The lie fell from his lips with all the grace of a wad of ice smacking a person in the nose if they tipped their glass too steeply. Ultear leaned in _very_ close. Her breasts pressed against his arm and she thought he cringed just a little.

"I think you're lying," she whispered in his ear. Her lipstick left a touch of color on the cartilage and she didn't even consider wiping it away.

"I just never thought –"

"That I had a personal life?" She hadn't backed away.

"Well, that and…" His eyes chanced a quick glance down at the way her cocktail dressed lifted her cleavage precariously. "This bar has a certain reputation…" He trailed off and licked his lips.

"I'm well of its reputation," Ultear said in a dangerously soft voice. "That's why I come here."

"Oh," he said with a harsh exhale.

"Buy me a drink?" She spun on her heel and headed for the bar without glancing back to see if Mister Fullbuster would follow. _Of course_ he would.

His cologne gave him away and his hair wasn't quite as stiff as it had been when she'd seen him only a handful of seconds before.

"What do you like?" he asked carefully. Ultear slid onto a stool and spun to face him. She crossed one leg over another and watched as his eyes fell to her thighs.

"Quite a lot of things, Mister Fullbuster." He bristled awkwardly and she laughed before taking pity on him. "Maker's Mark."

He took his whiskey on the rocks and she watched him try to sip it when he really wanted to knock it all back at once.

"You never struck me as a woman who'd wind up on this side of town," he finally said.

"To be completely fair, you don't know anything about me, Mister Fullbuster."

"Gray," he muttered. "It's just Gray."

"Sure."

"You're right. I don't know anything about you other than your office charges nearly twice as much as my last – well, my last…"

"Therapist?"

"Yes. Therapist."

"Would you say you've been getting your money's worth?"

"I have a new T.A. and my girlfriend let me move back in so, yeah, I guess so."

"And yet here you are alone."

Gray's eyes fell to the bar where his fingers toyed with the damp napkin stamped with the bar's logo. "Yeah." He sucked in a deep breath and sighed heavily. "You aren't going to bill me for this are you?"

Ultear laughed and finished off her bourbon. "No, Gray. You can pay for my drink and we'll call it even." She stood and admired the way the tails of his formerly crisp shirt were even more wrinkled than they'd been when she'd first spotted him. He truly was a train wreck of a man but she wanted to find out exactly how deep the damage went.

She left him behind for a second time without checking to make sure he'd follow.

* * *

" _Now you're mine_

 _but what do I do with you, boy"_

* * *

Ultear didn't need to be told which car belonged to Gray. Of course he would drive a ridiculous pickup truck with a chrome package. It was sleek and black and she loved it. The paint and chrome were just as pretty as he was.

"What are we doing?" He whispered from directly behind her. His breath was warm on her neck and she could smell cigarettes – she hadn't expected him to be a smoker but the new knowledge delighted her. Perhaps he was a fruit worth peeling after all.

Ultear whirled around and touched the buttons of his shirt. The low thread count contrasted with his expensive car and cologne. She knew where he spent his cash.

"What do you want to be doing?" she said, gazing up at him – even in her heels just as high as Erza's had been, he still towered over her. Large men thrilled her. They always went down the hardest and easiest.

"I don't know. I promised Ju–" Ultear's hand, quick as lightning, shot up to press a finger to his lips.

"If you say her name, I'll leave. This isn't about her or you, or her _and_ you."

"What's your name?" he whispered against her finger. His tongue flicked out to touch the pad of it.

"Doctor Milkovich is fine for now." She leaned back against the grill of his truck. "Maybe if you work hard I'll tell you."

* * *

" _I wanna taste the way that you bleed, oh_

 _you're my kill of the night"_

* * *

The interior of Gray's truck smelled of leather oil and mint, and the seats squeaked the way a well cared for seat should. Before he could settle, her knees pressed into the soft cushions on either side of his hips. The steering wheel cut into her back but she liked that and the hardening bulge between his legs meant Gray liked it too. Her skirt rode up to her waist and exposed her.

"You aren't wearing… anything," he said dumbly.

"No."

"Uh –" Even in the darkness she could see his neck flush. How did such an awkward man manage to fuck the brains out of his assistant? Ultear's hand fell to his hard cock in his pants and squeezed.

 _Oh._

Perhaps Mister Fullbuster was just a victim of his own marketable dick.

"Touch me," she whispered. The palms of his hands slid along her naked thighs and it was his thumb that brushed over her first. Ultear tilted her head as if to kiss him but kept their lips a breath apart.

Gray's thumb didn't miss a beat even when he twisted his hand and pressed his fore and middle fingers against her opening. He groaned and she touched her tongue to his bottom lip. It was nice to have her meticulous, and _expensive,_ wax appreciated. Ultear's palm pressed against him hard enough to hurt. He hissed but didn't stop her. Her nails, another expensive bit of grooming, scraped roughly over the wrinkles of fabric and Gray still didn't stop her.

She leaned back as far away from him as she could with the steering wheel at her back. When he tried to retrieve his hand, she grasped his wrist and speared him with her nails.

"Wh –"

"No talking," she said firmly. Ultear's hips swiveled in a smooth circle and his fingers curled just so. It was _more_ than nice. She reached for her handbag and pulled out a foil square. Gray said nothing as she settled back over him and secured his zipper between two fingers. He groaned quietly when she grasped his hard length and pulled him from his pants.

Gray's skin was heartbreakingly smooth and excitingly solid. His chest, his cock. _Yes._ She liked it. It would be a shame to cover it with a sheath of latex but Ultear didn't know exactly where he'd been and she was a careful woman.

When he pulled his fingers free of her body and grasped her thigh she reveled in the feel of the warm, wet fingerprints he would eventually leave there. When he'd filled her, his teeth dug into his bottom lip and Ultear closed her hand around his throat. Gray's mouth fell open and when she expected him to close his eyes, he didn't. He never broke away and it excited her more than it probably should've. Without having to be told, his thumb found her again and Ultear's head spun.

Her hair stuck to her shoulders with sweat and the scent of sex clogged the cab of Gray's truck. His cock throbbed inside of her and she tore at the buttons of his shirt. Her fingernails left indents in his chest and he didn't stop her – just watched. When she came it was more than she expected and his hands slid around to the swell of her ass before squeezing almost painfully. Gray bit back whatever words were on his tongue and grit his teeth when he finished.

Without a care to how it might ruin whatever lie he told his girlfriend later, Ultear ran her fingers through his hair. The product mixed with the humid air that hung in the cab and turned sticky. What a mess. She lifted off him and spun around to slide into the passenger seat. The mirror on the back of the sun visor was small but she was able to verify her eye makeup had been true to its word and hadn't smeared anywhere.

"So do you need a ride home or –" Ultear laughed and he did nothing but stare.

"I never need a ride home, Gray. I'll see you on Thursday."

"Are you going to tell me your first name at least?"

"No, I don't think so." She straightened her skirt and opened the passenger door. Cool night air swirled into the interior of the truck and the scent of their sex was gone.

"Well, when can I see you again?"

"Thursday."

"But that's –"

Ultear's heels didn't embarrass her as she hopped from his truck. When she turned she could see Gray's pants were still open and he looked an absolute mess – however, beautiful.

"Mister Fullbuster," she began. "I decide the terms of who I fuck and when and where. If I want you again, I'll let you know."

She left him with his fly open, his dick still in a used condom, and his mouth – and cab door – open. Of course she'd fuck him again. But he didn't need to know about it just yet.

* * *

" _This is a bad town for such a pretty face"_


End file.
